Undercover
by Xxpresso
Summary: CSIs don't go undercover...


Title: Undercover

Author: Xxpresso

Disclaimer: You go to another story, find the disclaimer, then copy and paste.

Rating: PG

          "Case File 1045," announced Grissom throwing files across the table with such gusto that everybody backed away with their chairs before the files reached the end of the table.

          Warrick picked up the file and opened it. "Wow, what is it that it gets a secret code name?" 

          "This is a VIP case," answered Grissom.

          Catherine, who had just finished reading the brief summary, rolled her eyes heavenward. "Oh please. We are CSIs."

          "Yes, we are," said Grissom. "Unfortunately, our usual poke and discover routine is a little different now. To have the upper authorities trust in our abilities is a…well, a curse or a blessing, I have yet to discover. Anyway, this Sir Edward Farthington is believed to have four disks, each containing the most valuable information of the states, and will suffer in the wrong hands, of which is going to happen one week later. Our job is to follow the trail of evidence and uncover the disk from the hiding place and escape without being discovered."

          "They have what they call spies to do this job," said Nick.

          "They sent every unit imaginable to do this but everyone failed," said Grissom. "Now, it is up to us."

          "We are CSIs," said Catherine again.

          "With a very high raise if we solve this," answered Grissom. "Not to mention that we are issued very high technology weapons to aid us in this raid. And top security backup."

          "In case we get squished," said Sara.

          "Don't worry, everything is being arranged and faked up, ready for us."

          "If they are so sure that he is the one they are looking for, why can't they get a warrant?"

          "Of many reasons, the top one that he is not an American. We are dealing internationally now," Grissom told them.

          "We are CSIs," whined Catherine again.

          "Come on, it'll be fun," said Grissom.

          "I specialize in blood splatter, not special agents," she shot back.

          Meanwhile, Sara had absently flicked to the back page, and her eyes widened as she blurted, "My cover name is Lady Esmeralda Farthington?"

          Everyone pounced on the files and read.

          "Lord Bryan Gogunshon?" snarled Nick. "What is this, Halloween?"

          "Lady Carla Anderson?" Catherine spat. "Great. We are now royalty in disguise!"

          "We are CSIs in disguise," corrected Grissom. "Of all means, meet your husband, Lord Brandon Anderson." He bowed and offered a hand to Catherine who slapped it away.

          "Lord Michael Bolenghi? Isn't that some kind of spaghetti?" asked Warrick.

          "We are working in pairs at different places, because as understood, Sir Farthington lives in a mansion and of course, me and my respective wife…"

          Catherine snorted.

          "Lord Gogunshon and his fiancée, Lady Farthington, who just happens to be Sir Farthington's cousin from afar and who earned us this pleasure of staying at that mansion…"

          Nick gave a smirk at Sara who was gaping in horror to realize that she was 'related' to that Sir Edward.

          "Lord Spaghetti…"

          Warrick shook a fist.

          "Okay, just kidding. You know, kiiiiding," said Grissom. "Lord Bolenghi who happens to be single and his partner, our dear butler."

          "Butler?" asked Nick. "Who's the butler?"

          "Hey, people! Sorry, I'm late. I was just…" Greg paused as everybody was looking at him in a weird way.

          "Er…I'm in the right room…am I?

          "This is our butler, Peter Mangleton."

________***________

***

          "Dear, dear, may ye pass me that little squirt of mustard. Me must say, that these mustards are such pleasant and ye must try some for de…"

          "Shut up, Grissom." 

          Grissom looked up from his book. "Hey. I'm just practicing. After all, I'm royalty."

          At the back seat, behind the bickering Catherine and Grissom, Nick and Sara studied the file and Sara was busy cramming the facts about the Farthingtons into her brain.

          "Edward likes blueberries," stated Sara.

          "Nope," Nick lowered the file.

          "Raspberries?"

          "Sorry."

          "Strawberries!"

          "Blackberries," Nick told her.

          "Damn the berries!"

          Behind them, in the very back of the three-door car, Warrick adjusted his one-eye reading glasses and Greg was trying to memorize the seating and places and which bag to take up first and the jobs of a butler.

          "Have thee finished thy practice?" Grissom's voice floated from the front.

          "Strawberries always go by cream."

          "They like it with mustard."

          "Ewww."

          "Because we are reaching," said Grissom loudly.

          "What?!"

          The car screeched to a halt and the 'royalty' climbed out. Sara had on a rather 'twinkly' dress embroidered with fake tiny jewels. Catherine word a green lacy dress with (of course) fake pearls. The men had fake moustaches pasted under their noses and Warrick had a reading-eye glasses. Other than that, it was the normal suit and tie. The 'butler' went with a bowtie.

          Nick scratched his nose before hitting the button.

          The door squeaked open.

          "Welcome!" a man in his late thirties, supposedly to be Sir Edward greeted them. "I did not see you coming, but it is okay. Why don't you put your respective luggage in your rooms before joining me for lunch?"

          The house was gleaming bright, as if the walls were made of gold. At a far end, there was a spiral grand staircase and chandeliers cast a dull glow throughout the mansion. Servants in uniform bustled around and arts hung all over the walls.

          "Sure," answered Grissom. "Show the way."

          "My cousin would love to do so, wouldn't you?" Sir Edward reached to Sara and enveloped her in his tight embrace. "You came here last year and my mother said she took you around the house, you should remember the rooms? Unfortunately, I didn't see you last year, and it's been such a long time. Let me see you now." He held Sara by her shoulders and studied her.

          "Now I have you committed to memory, my dear cousin. Go and show them the way. The nameplates are on the doors," he said and left them.

          "Okay," said Sara. "Where's the floorplan?"

          "There is no floorplan," said Grissom.

          "We are suppose to knock around like blind chickens?" Catherine said loudly.

          "Shhh!" everyone hissed.

          "Sorry."

          "The easiest way, we climb the stairs." Suggested Nick.

          They climbed up the stairs, hauling their baggage along and admiring the cold smooth marble steps.

          "Now, what?" asked Sara.

          They faced a wide hallway with rooms all along the sides.

          "This is like a hotel," whispered Greg.

          "Ladies and Lords," a servant passed them and bowed. "May I know what are you doing in our cluttered residents? It is a shame to have the royalty look at our dirty rooms."

          "Oh, your rooms," said Grissom.

          "We are just having a look-see," said Nick.

          "Pardon?" the servant asked.

          "We shall retire," said Grissom, his back straight as his right hand stroked his fake moustache.

          "Very well, Sir, as ye wish," the servant quickly as he backed out.

          "The best thing is to get the second floor," said Nick.

          "Very good point."

          They climbed up to the second floor.

          "AHA!" shouted Nick in glee.

          "Shhh!"

          "Sorry. Too happy." He fingered the gold plate with the name, "Lord Gogunshon" etched on it. "Adios amigos, my dear friends." He grinned and turned the key in the lock and then entering his room. "Wow, this is heaven!"

          The large king sized bed stood in the middle of the room, with everything imaginable in it and beside it. A massaging chair was at a corner and its bathroom was terrific. 

          "That is a ten-star hotel," observed Grissom.

          "I have never slept in a ten-star hotel before," Nick said.

          "I can see that," said Sara. "Wipe that drool."

          "There is no ten-star hotel," said Catherine opening the next room. Grissom bumped into her in his effort to enter before she slammed the door.

          "Excuse me?" said Catherine.

          Grissom tapped the name plate. "Lord and Lady Anderson."

          Catherine growled, "I want to switch rooms!"

          "My dear wife…" started Grissom.

          The door slammed as the fighting couple continued, their voices muffled. Nick closed his too.

          Warrick and Sara rolled their eyes and entered their own rooms, gasping at the rich materials that were going to pamper them all within two miserably short days. Greg was dully escorted of the 'premises' by another servant that took him to the second floor, and gave him what could be passed as an eight-star hotel room. Nonetheless, he immediately picked up the phone and dialed Grissom's room number, and began complaining.

          Grissom had his own problems and he promptly told Greg that he "at least have a bed" and he was currently bedless.

          Nick was in heaven as he stripped of his clothes and indulged in his hot bath, scrubbing his every pore with the expensive soap beside the sink. He began singing.

          Beside his room, Sara was trying to figure out how the TV worked. She gave up, then decided to take a bath too. She shed her clothes and wrapped a towel around herself. Humming a soft tune, she opened the door…and yelled.

          Nick was lathering his face in the bathtub and splashing water over the whole bathroom when the other door, which he thought to be a sauna was, opened and a half-naked lady screamed.

          "Nick!" she screamed.

          "Arggh, Sara! What are you doing here? Help me!" yelled Nick.

          "What are you doing in my bathroom!" shouted Sara.

          "What are you doing in my sauna!" yelled Nick.

          "What sauna! That's my bedroom!"

          "Well, this is my bathroom!"

          Sara marched to the other door and yanked it open. "We got an adjoining bathroom!" 

          "Now if you will excuse me, I'll like to finish my bath," said Nick grumpily.

          "Fine." Sara slammed the door.

          Warrick unpacked his bag and hung his borrowed tuxedos in the closet and straightened his "uniform" he was going to wear when snooping around. He looked around for a place to keep his "weapons and gadgets", spotted the bed, and crawled underneath, pulling out a roll of duct tape, and taped the bag to the bottom of the bed.

          On the second floor, Greg unscrewed the air conditioning duct and placed the lab equipments carefully inside. Grissom and Catherine had sliced a part of the mattress up and stowed it inside the bed while Nick pulled the drawer at the nightstand out and kept it right inside. Sara kept all of them in separate places, taping some in nooks and crannies.

          Grissom was amused at the telephone system and he spent 10 minutes calling everyone and fiddling with the number '8' button which summoned their undercover 'butler'. Greg had been most irritated and left the phone off the hook. 

          Nick dried his hands and picked up the phone, listened to the instructions, then hitting number 4. Warrick picked up the phone. 

          "Hello. Lord Gogushon here," said Nick.

          "Gogunshon," Grissom corrected.

          "What…" began Warrick.

          "Boss…" began Nick.

          "Hey, part of the menu. Overriding the phone system," Grissom informed them.

          "Bah," said Warrick. 

          "Before we were rudely interrupted, I wanted to know whether we could retire to our lunch," said Nick haughtily.

          "I'll call Sara and Greg," offered Warrick.

          "Without Grissom," added Nick.

          "Hint taken," said Grissom. There was a click as he put down the phone on the other side. Before he did, they could hear Catherine screaming about something under the bed.

          Warrick called the rest and they agreed to the lunch thing. They hurriedly put on what could be called a casual attire and then descended as gracefully as possible.

          "Ah, my honorable guests. I was about to call you down," said Edward as he led them to the enormous table that could easily sit 20 guests. They sat around it. Edward clapped his hands and summoned the food to be served.

          When they were carefully preparing, Edward beamed at Sara.

          "So, Esmeralda, I remembered how you loved strawberries with mustard. Mother always told me to prepare them for you," said Edward. "I have specially asked the cook to put that in our menu."

          "Shit," Sara said under her breath and Nick who had been sitting beside her gave a snicker.

          "I remembered that when we were small, we loved that goblin sitting on Mr. Weakling's rooftop. What color was it? I forgot," Edward scrunched up his face trying to remember.

          Sara looked desperately around the table for help. "Arrr…purple?" she said weakly.

          "No, I think it was green," said Edward.

          "Oh yes, the Green Goblin," said Sara brightly.

          "No. It was of a particular color," said Edward.

          Nick began to tap his spoon, making a clinking sound.

          Sara glanced at him. 

          "Esmeralda?" asked Edward.

          Nick annoyingly picked up his spoon and slapped it on his palm.

          "Silver!" Sara blurted.

          "That's it!" said Edward.

          The whole group visibly relaxed.

          "Ah, dear Bryan. I hear you love golf. Would you mind telling me your favorite golfer?" asked Edward.

          "Yeah. Tiger Woods," said Nick bravely.

          Edward frowned. "Another one perhaps?"

          Nick tensed. He knew nothing about golf. "Ah. There is this player. I met him personally once, and he is very…what you call that? Ah, obnoxious. But nonetheless, he plays well."

          "The name?" asked Edward.

          "Name? Oh, yeah. The name," Nick let out a false laugh.

          "Yeah. His name," said Edward.

          "Gil Grissom," said Nick.

          Grissom covered his face with his hands. Warrick coughed loudly behind his hands.

          "Never heard of him," said Edward. "Very obnoxious?"

          "Full of himself," agreed Nick. He caught a warning look from Grissom, and then decided to let it slip.

          "Dear Carla, you wouldn't mind me calling you Carla?" asked Edward.

          "No, not at all," said Catherine graciously.

          "I heard you specialize in art. I bought a piece of art, lately, and that man claimed it is Mr. Picasso's work and I'll like to hear your opinion on it," said Edward.

          "Oh. Of course. Yeah," said Catherine.

          "Lord Bolenghi?" said Edward.

          Warrick continued to stare ahead.

          "Lord Bolenghi?"

          Sara stamped on Warrick's foot.

          "Yeow! Oh, yeah. What is it?" asked Warrick politely.

          "You like lobsters," said Edward.

          "Ah. Lobsters, my favorite," said Warrick. "But, I…"

          "The first dish…" said Edward.

          Dishes of lobsters were placed in front of everyone.

          Catherine winced.

          "Your favorite," said Edward graciously.

          Warrick gingerly picked at the lobster.

          "Everybody, tuck in," said Edward and began to cut the lobster apart.

          The 'everybody' promptly copied every movement Edward made to cut the lobster apart. Bits and pieces flew everywhere and Edward began to think that they were the messiest piece of royalty.

          The other dishes went smoothly, and then the dessert.

          Bowls of mustard were placed around and bright red strawberries in baskets were distributed fairly.

          "I'll like the top strawberry," said Sara.

          "No, I like that," said Warrick, realizing Sara's attempt.

          "No, I want it," said Catherine, joining in.

          "My fair ladies…" started Grissom.

          "I want it," said Nick firmly.

          The unruly group of royalties began to fight in front if the astonished Sir Edward.

          "I said it first!"

          "Take your hands off it!"

          The strawberry was snatched out from the basket and the strawberry started the trip from hand to hand. 

          "Oh nooo!" Nick dramatically shouted as the strawberry flew from his hands and airborne. 

          The strawberry flew up and up, getting a chance of kissing the ceiling and a chance to be closer to the chandelier before slapping down right onto Edward's head.

          "Ohhh!" said Sara brokenheartedly, then turning away so dramatically that Nick almost clapped his hands, and fled up the stairs.

          "My love!" said Nick faking a call then dashing after Sara.

          "How can you not fight for my rights?" said Catherine haughtily to Grissom. "After all the blackberries I have snatched for you when we were together?" She exited the room.

          "I…" Grissom didn't even had a chance to react, stunned from the beginning.

          "Butler! Come with me. We got work to do!" said Warrick.

          Greg and Warrick as graceful as possible exited the room, then 10 steps away, fled up the stairs, away from the mustard berries.

          Edward wiped his head with a towel and looked at Grissom. "Your team is hopeless."

          "Shh!" said Grissom.

          "Whatever it is, Grissom, I don't want another strawberry on my head," Edward went out of the room.

          Grissom sighed. Outside, Catherine who dropped an earring and came back to retrieve it, gaped as she heard the exchange, grinned and then ran up the stairs.

__________***__________

***

          Dinner was served room service style as Grissom wanted to avoid 'situations'. 

          After dinner, all of them gathered at Warrick's room and Grissom wiped his mouth, opened it and began, "I don't want a repeat of today's happening, and this can seriously jeopardize our mission."

          "Of course, our mission," said Catherine slyly.

          "I don't want bickering, stuttering or anything for that matter, and please act like royalties."

          "Oh, of course," said Nick brightly.

          Catherine smiled.

          "What?" asked Grissom.

          "What what?" asked Catherine innocently.

          "Oh, this is an important mission," said Warrick, flapping his hands.

          "I don't know what's going on with all of you, but this is an order. Not to be violated, amended or ignored," said Grissom.

          "Yes, sir," said Warrick.

          "Of course," said Catherine.

          "Absolutely," said Nick.

          "Definitely," said Sara.

          Grissom looked suspiciously at them. "But you are going to violate, amend and ignore, aren't you?"

          "Yes, sir," said Warrick.

          "Of course," said Catherine.

          "Absolutely," said Nick.

          "Definitely," said Sara.

          "Did you uncover anything?" asked Grissom slowly.

          "Oh, _Grissom_," said Catherine, flapping a hand.

          Grissom studied the group of smirking people in front of him, and decided to leave it. "We act out tonight."

          "Yes, sir," said Warrick.

          "Of course," said Catherine.

          "Absolutely," said Nick.

          "Definitely," said Sara.

          "Can you say anything beside those four words?" asked Grissom, annoyed.

          "Yes, sir," said Warrick.

          "Of course," said Catherine.

          "Absolutely," said Nick.

          "Definitely," said Sara.

__________***__________

***

          "Please know that whatever happens, I still love you…" crooned Nick in Sara's ears as he cleaned his gun.

          "Nick…" said Sara warningly. "Poor Grissom."        

          "He was the one who made this stupid mission up," said Warrick.

          "But, I should think it's some kind of evaluation," said Catherine. "We must do our best, and go on strong."

          Warrick slung the backpack on his shoulders. "So, let's do it!"

          "Knock knock," Greg's voice sounded soft.

          "Enter the chamber of secrets, my man," said Nick and threw open the door.

          Grissom and Greg were still dressed in their suits and will act as the backup diverting-attention crew if anything happens.

          "First thing, to go to the study room, the most potential hiding place," explained Grissom. "Me and Grego will be near there and Nick and Sara will dig around. Catherine and Warrick, go search for other could be hiding places."

          "Yo, captain," said Nick and threw the window open, and climbed out. 

          Sara winked, waved a gloved hand and followed Nick out.

          With Sara hovering behind him on a rope, Nick reached in his pack, drew out a gadget, placed it on the lock in the window. Pressed a button and twisted. The handle followed and moments later, the window was opened.

          Nick silently entered, Sara behind. Red laser beams hung all over the room and Nick waved for Sara to put on her special goggles. Sara tracked the beams and slowly inserted a prism in the beams, absorbing the lasers. Nick began to tap softly for hollow places in the wall, while Sara turned on the computer.

          "Be careful, don't trip an alarm," whispered Nick.

          "Don't worry. I'm on little cat feet," informed Sara.

          "The last time you were on 'little cat feet' nearly cost me my life," said Nick.

          Sara rolled her eyes.

          "What are we looking for?" she asked.

          "Four disks," said Nick.

          "I know. With what?" asked Sara.

          "Names of secret missions and passwords," said Nick.

          Sara reached into her pack and drew out a disk and began copying files.

          "What are you doing?" asked Nick.

          "Copying files. Maybe he transferred them into the computer," said Sara.

          Nick pried open a board with a screwdriver. "Rats." He screwed it back.

          "Damn."

          Nick quickly ran to the window.

          Sara scowled. "I mean I got a locked file, not tripping an alarm."

          Nick crept in again.

          Sara softly typed.

          Nick turned to remove a painting, then paused as he felt something.

          "Got it." Sara waited while the file unlocked.

          "Sara."

          "Shit."

          Voices echoed down the hallway, coming closer. Nick quickly replaced the painting motioning for Sara to buck up. Sara snatched up the disk, heartbroken to leave the unlocked file, then turned off the computer. They got outside, Nick removing the prism, and shutting the window silently.

          Outside, Sir Edward entered the room, flicked a switch turning off the laser beams and told his butler to call security.

          "What the hell…" said Sara.

          Nick motioned for her to go and they climbed up to their bedroom window, entering and ripping off their black attire. Sara returned the weapons in their hiding place while Nick put their attires in a waterproof bag and managed to stuff it into the water tank.

          Before that, Catherine and Warrick were in Sir Edward's bedroom. They could hear him in the bathroom and Warrick slowly opened his drawers while Catherine quietly opened his laptop. The laptop was brand new but when Catherine hit the power button, it wouldn't function. She plugged the laptop in thinking there was no battery but still, the laptop would not work. The water in the bathroom stopped running and Warrick quickly slid through the door motioning for Catherine to leave. Catherine slid the cover down but was not fast enough as the doorknob turned. Quickly, she slid under the bed and Warrick closed the door softly.

          Catherine could see Sir Edward's feet pattering around the room and luckily, the bedspread was covering the whole bed, shielding Catherine and letting her peep through its folds.

          Sir Edward rubbed his hair dry, and then he stopped, as if hearing something. Catherine held her breath. A beeping sounded and he picked it up. Quickly, he dressed and then ran out of the room. Seconds later, Warrick opened the door and Catherine slipped out. Together they ran up to their rooms, meeting Grissom and Greg halfway.

          They met in Nick's bedroom and reported their every move.

          "No disks?" asked Grissom.

          "No disks," said Sara. "But I downloaded a few files in this." She held up a disk.

          "No. The info is in disks," said Grissom.

          "Failure," sighed Greg.

          "We got one more day, don't get depressed," said Grissom encouragingly.

          "Lord Gogunshon."

          Sara quickly got up and pulled Catherine with her into her other room through the adjoining bathrooms.

          Nick put on his best face and opened the door.

          "I'm from the Farthington's security team and I'll like to inform you that an intruder had trespassed this house and to tell you to be very careful and to report anything amiss."

          "I will. Thank you," said Nick.

          He closed the door. "How did they know?"

          "Maybe you left something out of place," suggested Grissom. "But at least you didn't get caught."

_________***_________

Day Two

***

          "This is the painting I was talking about, Carla," said Edward, leading the trio into his study room. Sara eyed the computer longingly but stayed put.

          "Er…pistachio, was it?" asked Catherine.

          "Yes, Picasso," said Edward, not seeming to notice the mistake, or he had superb acting skills.

          Catherine eyed the swishes of different brushes, and the colors which seemed to clash with one another. "I would say…it's ah… original."

          "Yes, I'm sure it is," said Edward. "Thank you for your opinion."

          He had a servant hang it up then led them out. "Let's have a casual talk, and maybe you can tell me your stories?"

          They sat around in the soft cushion chairs.

          "So, Lord Bolenghi…"

          "Please. Call me Wa…Michael," said Warrick.

          "Michael," said Edward. "I hear you were looking for a personal basketball coach for your daughter."

          "Oh, really? Of course, I found one," said Warrick.

          "What is his name?" asked Edward all interested.

          "Uh…" He looked around the room for inspiration. His eyes fell on a poster of Elvis Presley. "His name is Elley Presvis," he said brightly.

          "Ah. Elley Presvis," repeated Edward.

          Silence.

          "Esmeralda, I've known you to be talkative, why the sudden change?" asked Edward.

          "Really? Oh…no topic," said Sara quickly. "No topic."

          Edward fondly fingered the flowers beside him and smiled to himself.

          Sara looked curiously.

          "What would you like to do today?" asked Edward.

          "Watch movies," said Nick quickly.

          Edward frowned. "Let's go into my study room to watch movies."

          "Why not here?" asked Warrick.

          "The TV's damaged. The electrician is coming on Sunday," said Edward.

          "Oh."

________***________  
Night

***

          "This is our last night," said Grissom. "Please, turn results out."  

          "I don't think so," said Nick unhappily. "It's all so hard."

          "Well, good luck," said Grissom. "And please, do not get caught."

          "Aye aye," said Catherine. 

          Nick and Sara headed down to the study room again while Greg and Warrick decided to haunt the other empty bedrooms. Grissom and Catherine sneaked down into Edward's bedroom – again. Edward was no where to be seen and they hurriedly turned the room upside down,

          "Look, I know this is all a mission," said Catherine as they crept under the bed.

          "What?"

          "Evaluation…stuff like that," said Catherine.

          "How did you…"

          "I overheard, but don't worry. We'll find the disks."

          "Not so fast," Edward's voice rang across the room. 

Grissom and Catherine stared at the black shiny shoes before looking up.

          "Hi," said Grissom weakly. To Catherine, "Busted. You know where the disks is?"

          Behind him, servants (agents, actually) led Sara and Nick in while another led Warrick and Greg.

          "Great," said Grissom.

          "Unless you know where the disks are…" Edward smiled. "Boom." 

          No one moved, they were thinking so hard their brains hurt.

          "I know!" said Catherine. She crossed over to the laptop, took a small hammer from her backpack and smashed the laptop. She picked up the shatterproof case with the disk. "You don't have a brand new useless laptop for nothing."

          Edward snatched the disk. "One. There's three more."

          Grissom, who had seen Catherine's discovery had relaxed but immediately tensed.

          "The Flowers," blurted Sara.

          "What?" asked Grissom.

          Sara ran down the stairs, the rest following close behind. "You were fingering the flowers. You were smirking because we were so near yet so far." She pulled out all the flowers and extracted a disk from the vase.

          "Clever," mused Edward.

          "And the TV," Warrick crossed over to the TV. "Based on Catherine's theory, why keep a useless thing?" He drew out a screwdriver and unscrewed the back of the TV. He drew out a disk.

          "Just one more," prayed Grissom.

          "And the painting," said Nick,

          Thank God.

          They climbed upstairs where Nick took the painting down, and pried away the paper. Rows of shiny disks were underneath.

          "Which one is it?" smirked Edward.

          "Damn." Cursed Catherine.

          Nick hesitated, his eyes running over the disks.

          "If I were you, I'll follow the case number. That is 1045," he stopped, looked hard. "1+ 0 = 1 and 4+ 5 = 9."

          "What?" asked Greg.

          "Row number 1, column number 9," Nick's fingers hovered around the disks and plucked one out.

          "You CSIs are not dumb, huh?" Edward grinned. 

          "Paid to observe," said Grissom.

          "Congratulations, you earned it. 10 points for your record and a certificate of excellence." Said Edward. "You'll have a bright future with this cert."

          The group of CSIs grinned, slapped high fives.

          "It's not so bad after all," said Catherine.

          "I feel like the mole in The Mole," complained Grissom.

          "The Mole: Gil in the gills." Remarked Warrick.

          "But…" continued Edward. "You get 3 marks deducted for your mistakes, which Grissom would explain to you." Edward smiled, sat in a chair and relaxed. Grissom took the clipboard and scowled.

          "Dear Nick. With an IQ of Forest Gump, you answered Gil Grissom as a famous golf player. Deducted 2 marks. Catherine, Picasso, not Pistachio. 2 marks. Warrick, we know you are a fan of Elvis Presley, but please. Elley Presvis. Sara, be more princessy like, can you? Greg, oh, I don't even want to touch your subject. And of course, the unruly behaviour at the dining table…"

          "The strawberry fight," interrupted Edward.

          "Yes, the Strawberry thingie," said Grissom.

          "Whatever," said Warrick.

          "Hey, we are CSIs after all," said Sara pointedly.

          "Yup," said Catherine. "Not secret agents."

          Grissom rolled his eyes heavenward. "Yeah. You told me that about a hundred times."

          "Do you think we could once more go sit in that beautiful gold toilet bowl in that 10 star room?" asked Greg dreamily.

          "Take it," said Edward. "It's fake, anyway. Everything is fake."

          "Thank you," Greg beamed.

          The next day saw the departure of the CSIs with their disowned butler who disgracefully carried 5 toilet bowls into the van.


End file.
